a good man
by BeyondMyReach
Summary: The headline read, "TONY STARK, PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE, IN COMA AFTER CIVIL WAR AMONG THE AVENGERS!" In which Steve pays Tony a visit and finally confronts what he has done in Civil War.


Bunch of thanks to Aori, who helped me with editing despite still feeling bitter about Steve.

* * *

Steve's jaws tightened when he got to the hangar and saw Clint already there, waiting. He didn't even want to know how Clint knew, since he didn't tell the remaining Avengers about his departure plan after they so adamantly argued against it the first time he mentioned it. He didn't want to waste time on arguing about it again.

Sometimes, Clint acted so normal that it was easy to forget that Natasha wasn't the only trained spy on the team.

"If you're planning on stopping me," Steve started, a warning in his voice, "Don't. I said this already. I slammed the shield into his chest. I have to take responsibility."

"I know," Clint said, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. "Just thought I would see you off. Did you tell Your Majesty?"

"Yes, and he said it was fine," Steve said, and it wasn't a lie, not exactly.

 _"Captain, I'm not going to stop you. There are some things that we all feel that we must do, despite our better judgment," he said, and Steve nodded in agreement. "I have agreed to provide shelter for you in Wakanda out of understanding of your situation and because I have falsely accused your friend Bucky for a crime he did not commit." He paused, letting that sink in, before saying, "Understand that I must put my country above of all else, however."_

 _It took Steve a moment to parse out what T'Challa meant._

 _"We're grateful for your help, Your Majesty," Steve started. "If it weren't for you, I don't know where we would be now. I don't want to cause you any trouble. If my actions ever lead to putting Wakanda in danger, please do whatever you need to do to keep your nation safe. I only ask that my actions don't affect the Avenger's welcome to stay on Wakanda."_

 _T'Challa nodded at Steve's request, and Steve relaxed slightly. "You're a good man, Captain," T'Challa said, in that blunt and piercing way of his. "May you find whatever you are seeking for in New York."_

Clint sighed. "Okay then," he said, before stepping towards Steve. "Here, take this."

Clint dropped a scrap of paper into Steve's palm. Steve turned it over to see a three digit number written on it.

Clint rocked on the balls of his feet. "It's his hospital room number." Steve's head jerked up and caught sight of Clint's wry smirk. "Can't have you sneaking into New York, and then going in circles trying to find him, can we?"

"How did you get your hands on this?" Steve asked, touched by Clint's gesture but also worried now because while the news reporters were able to dig up the hospital that Tony was staying at, the hospital itself was too professional to be bought into releasing the actual room number. "And I thought you were against me going to see him."

"I may not be a spy for SHIELD anymore, but I still got connections," Clint said blasely. Steve opened his mouth, but Clint waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Steve. It's nothing bad," he assured, and although Steve knew Clint wouldn't take too much risks since he still had a family that was waiting for him to go back, the fact that he took a risk at all, once again for Steve's sake, made something inside him clench uncomfortably. "As for helping you now..."

Clint shoved his hands into his pockets, and casually shrugged. Almost too casually, as he continued to rock lightly on his feet. "I was against the plan, you know, but I would like to think I know better now to think you would give up just like that, and I was right. If you're going, I would rather you be prepared. Besides..." Steve waited for Clint to finish speaking, but he fell silent. Finally, he dragged his gaze from where they fell onto the ground back to Steve, and said quietly, "I was his friend, too, once."

Steve's throat clogged. It hurt to know that this internal conflict between Tony and him – the Civil War, the media had taken to calling it, always eager to dramatize a story – hurt than more than just him. "Clint..."

Clint shook his head. "I was angry after we were captured. I knew he had no control over how we are treated by the government, I _knew,_ I was once part of SHIELD, but I still took my anger out on him." Clint looked at him and there was a plea in his eyes. "I said some pretty nasty things to him, Steve. I'm not Nat, but I still know how to hit 'em where it hurts." _And it definitely hurt_ , he didn't say, but they both heard. "Just... check up on him, would you? For both of our peace of mind."

Steve finally found his voice. "Come with me, Clint." Steve couldn't stand how agonized Clint looked, because Steve understood that feeling all too well.

Clint shook his head. "He wouldn't want to see me. Besides, your ride has enough weight without me adding to it."

"He - " Steve started, before Clint's words caught up to him. "My ride?"

"And that's my cue," a voice said, and then Sam stepped out from behind one of the jets in the hangar. Steve looked Sam, eyes wide, and he gave him a wry grin. On his back was his wings, already suited up for departure. "Ready when you are, Cap."

"Sam," Steve said, startled.

"Steve, you didn't think you were going without me, did you?" Sam asked. "These wings are kinda obtrusive, but they're a lot better than flying into New York with a jet, don't you think?"

"Yes, but - " _you've already done so much._ The words stuck in his throat, not out of unwillingness to say them but because he suddenly felt so _overwhelmed_ by how much everyone was doing for him. Risking for him. Him, the kid from Brooklyn.

"What's friends for, Steve?" Sam asked, smiling. He spread his wings. "C'mon, let's go."

Steve took a deep breath, and he could see Sam and Clint steeling themselves for an argument. Steve held his breath for a moment, pulling himself together even though he felt like he was unraveling at the seams from everything that was going on, before finally nodding. "Alright, let's go then." Steve ignored Sam and Clint exchanging looks of surprise and victory.

Just before they departed, Steve turned back to ask, "Clint, is there anything you want me to say to Tony?"

Clint's grin dimmed, before he shook his head. "I have no right to say anything to him, Steve. I'll be satisfied if you just come back and tell me that he's alright."

Steve promised he would, despite having no authority that Tony would be fine. As they flew off, Steve couldn't help but think of the headline that spurred this journey.

 _TONY STARK, PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE, IN COMA AFTER CIVIL WAR AMONG THE AVENGERS?!_

"He would be fine," Steve has said to Clint just before they left.

 _He has to be,_ he thought.

Plead.

Xxx

It took Sam circling a few times until he finally found the correct hospital room number that Clint provided.

"Go say your piece," Sam said, nodding towards the balcony door as his wings folded behind him. "I'll wait right here."

 _Go make your peace,_ his eyes said with entirely too much understanding.

Steve nodded, and didn't know why he felt like he had a lump in his throat.

It only took a little fiddling until the balcony door unlocked, and then he was in. The room he found himself standing in was luxurious, more hotel-like than a hospital. He would have shook his head at the room's extravagance if only his gaze wasn't drawn to the bed situated to the side of the room.

Specifically, the person lying in it.

Steve walked up to it and bit his lips. Against the wide luxurious bed, Tony looked impossibly small, especially when lying down and swaddled by blankets. It didn't help that even with the shadows from the room and the darkness from outside the windows, the ugly purple bruises and angry scabbed marks on his face still stood out clearly against his face. Instead of the larger than life atmosphere that Tony usually embodied when he was awake, Tony looked almost vulnerable.

The sound of gun cocking reached his ears.

Steve's hand instantly shot to his back, only to grasp empty air. His shield wasn't there, not anymore. He had given it up.

"Step away from him," Rhodey's voice came from just inside the door, steady and clear. Steve had no doubt that if he didn't comply with his demands, Rhodey would shoot.

Despite that, Steve hesitated. "It's me, Rhodey," Steve called out, raising his hands above his head. It left him feeling vulnerable, but if that was what he needed to do to have Rhodey trust him, then so be it.

There was a whirring sound and then Rhodey wheeled into view.

Steve closed his eyes at the sight. It was one thing to hear that Rhodey's fall left him unable to walk again, and it was another thing to see it in person. Steve couldn't help but think that had Tony been awake, he would have attempted at least a dozen methods of enabling him to walk again.

"I know who you are," Rhodey said, and Steve met his flinty gaze. "Don't force me to shoot, Rogers."

It hurt to hear him call him that. Captain, Rhodey once called him because they were both military men and habits were hard to break. Comforting, even, in some cases, because it was a nod at all that they'd done and will continue doing for the good of their country. Steve, Rhodey called him as they got to know each other and became more than just Tony's friend to each other.

Rogers, however, Rhodey never called him that, not until now.

It hurt to know that Steve lost Rhodey's friendship and respect.

"Please, Rhodey," Steve said, and he didn't know what he was pleading for. To let him have another moment with Tony? To not shoot? To give him a chance?

To forgive him?

Steve swallowed, before trying again, "I just want to - "

"You've done more than enough, Rogers," Rhodey said, his tone dark. "Leave."

Indignance was slowly, but surely, beginning to take over. Steve was trying to make amends, why couldn't Rhodey let him?!

Steve slowly put his hands down, not as a gesture of surrender but because clearly Rhodey wasn't willing to hear him out and he wouldn't let Rhodey push him around. He experienced too much of that before he received the serum already, enough to last him a lifetime.

"I'm his friend," Steve said, leaning on the bed rail to look directly into Rhodey's eyes, as though he could somehow mentally impress it into Rhodey's mind. Steve's grip on the railing tightened as Rhodey casted him an unimpressed look.

"So am I," Rhodey said. The words echoed in Steve's mind, bringing forth a similar conversation that happened what seemed like a lifetime ago.

 _"He's my friend."_

 _"So was I."_

Rhodey's gaze drop to his hand on the rail for a moment, before sliding up to rest on his face as though evaluating him. "And no, you're not."

 _"So_ was _I,"_ Tony said, and it felt like a punch in the guts.

Steve forced himself to stand up straighter despite wanting to curl up in pain, because that was what he did. Stand strong in face of opposition, because he knew he was right.

His gaze dropped to Tony lying on the bed, and he wavered. "I did what I thought was right," he said, and he didn't know who he speaking to. Rhodey, Tony, or himself.

He thought about Bucky and his metal arm, the reports he heard about what he had gone through at the hands of Hydra, and his wavering heart steadied. Helping Bucky was the right thing to do.

"Do you still think that?" Rhodey asked, and for the first time, his voice rose. The heart monitor spiked for a split-second and Rhodey immediately lowered his voice, though it lost none of its intensity. "Do you still think it is right?" he asked, gesturing with his head at Tony lying on the bed, unconscious.

It punched a hole into his resolution.

"I didn't intend for this to happen," Steve said, and that was the truth. Tony was his friend. He didn't want to fight him, but he had no choice. "I didn't want to hurt him."

"You _did_ this, Rogers, and do you know what pisses me off even more than that?" Rhodey asked. "You did this to him after he went to help you. After you broke apart the Avengers, the only really steady thing in his life, he still went to help you. And how do you repay him? By beating him black and blue. And now you stand here, in his hospital room, so busy trying to defend your own actions that you don't even have the common decency to _apologize._ "

Steve jerked back as though he was shot. "I..." He apologized, didn't he? He had to have. He only wanted to help Bucky, he only wanted his friend back. He...

Since when did he become so self-centered?

 _"I slammed the shield into his chest. I have to take responsibility."_

 _"Just... check up on him, would you? For both of our peace of mind."_

Did Steve come for himself, his own peace of mind, or for Tony?

 _"...so busy trying to defend your own actions that you don't even have the common decency to_ apologize _."_

"Leave, _Steve,_ " Rhodey hissed, his name a curse on his tongue, and this time, Steve went.

Fled.

Sam's eyes widened when he spotted Rhodey through the glass door as Steve exited the hospital room and looked at Steve in askance, but Steve only shook his head and asked to go back.

How could Steve give Sam an answer when even he didn't have any?

Xxx

The remaining Avengers were full of questions when he got back, asking him where he went and if he was okay, and normally he could accept them, but now, Rhodey's words just kept echoing his mind.

 _"After you broke apart the Avengers, the only really steady thing in his life, he still went to help you."_

 _I took these people away from Tony,_ he realized, thinking back to Tony's hospital room that was extravagant but devoid any sign of visitors besides Rhodey, and suddenly, it was just too much to bear. His body suddenly felt too small, his discomfort too much.

He felt despicable.

Something must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew, Clint was between him and the remainders of the Avengers, diverting their questions to make a quick getaway. Steve was too grateful to question it and took the opportunity to escape to the gym.

He was at the punching bags at what felt like hours, trying to lose his thought in the physical exertion, until he sensed a figure sit on a bench a few feet away from him. Patiently waiting.

After one last punch that sent the punching bag flying across the room, Steve turned to his visitor.

Sitting parallel to the bench, Clint grinned lightly at him and tossed him a bottle of water. Steve caught it and joined him on the bench.

He ended up chugging down the entire bottle of water down. After that they both sat there for a while, back pressed against back, not speaking and just being there, and for some reason, that did what hours of working out with the punching bags couldn't. For the first time since he came back from New York, he could feel some tension within him release. Perhaps, in the end, that was what prompted him to speak.

"Clint," Steve said, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling lights above, "why did you join my side?"

From where their backs were pressed against each other, Steve could feel Clint startle. Steve didn't comment on it and merely waited. Clint was silent for a moment, before he finally let out a sigh and said, "Because you called. And Tasha was already on Tony's side."

"Not because you don't agree with the Accord?" Steve asked.

Steve could almost hear Clint's wry grin as he said, "Steve, no one cared about the Accord besides the government. And Tony, I guess, because he is trying to make amends." Clint paused, before saying, "The rest of us only chose a side because we had to."

"Thor and Bruce didn't," Steve pointed out.

Clint sighed. "Yeah, maybe that's smarter. I don't know if Thor's radio silence is because he didn't receive the news, but Bruce definitely woulda wanted to avoid choosing and conflict altogether."

"Then why did you come, even at the risk of being a fugitive and never seeing your family again?" Steve asked, coming to terms with what he had knowingly asked Clint to do for him when he called on him.

Clint let out a laugh at that, short and bitter, and Steve regretted unthinkingly phrasing his question that way. It sounded like a reproach and it was, but it was aimed at Steve himself and not Clint.

"I thought I could make a difference," Clint said before Steve could apologize. "You're right, it was probably stupid of me to come, but Steve, both you and Tony are my friends. If one of you called, I want to be there, not because I hate the other guy but because it would have made me feel better to know that the odds are balanced between you two."

"I'm sorry," Steve said, looking away, more out of guilt that it took him so long to say it, so long to even realize that he harmed more than just Tony's team.

"I'm sorry too, man, that things turned out the way they did," Clint said. "It sucks that the kids have to choose when the parents have a messy divorce."

Steve let out a choked laugh, because of the analogy and how oddly fitting it was.

"What happened in New York, Steve?" Clint asked after a moment. It was a question Steve knew was coming and he didn't bother dodging it. Clint deserved an answer after all that he had done for him and the patience that he had shown him.

"I bumped into Rhodey," Steve said and Clint tensed. Steve understood the sentiment all too well, since out of all of them during the Civil War, Rhodey arguably took the worst hit, perhaps besides Tony, who was still in coma.

"Steve, whatever he said to you, he was understandably upset," Clint started, but Steve shook his head.

"No, what he said was right, and he opened my eyes to what I couldn't see before," Steve said, and Clint waited. Steve took a deep breath, before pushed forward, "That I was self-centered in only caring about Bucky to the point of disregarding everything and everyone else. You were right, no one ever cared about the Accord, not even me. It was only an excuse." His head lowered. "The Civil War was my fault. The Avengers were great together and I broke it apart for my own selfish reason. This could have all been avoided if only I was more open about Howard's death, if only I trusted all of you to stand with me to find Bucky. You guys did so even during the Civil War, so why couldn't I have trusted the rest of the Avengers?"

"Cap," Clint said, firmer than Steve had ever heard from him. Clint was now facing him. The grip on his arm provided a grounding point for Steve. "No one wanted things to turn out this way and no one could have predicted that it would. Yes, there's a shit ton of things that could have been done differently. Tony would have probably appreciated being told about his parents earlier, but you had your reasons for it. It may not be a good reason, it may be a selfish one, but it is one, yes? You were afraid that Tony, your friend, would have a bad reaction upon finding out that Bucky, your other friend, killed his parents."

Steve flinched, but Clint continued on anyway, like he was quickly ripping off a bandage.

"It backfired, the news came out at the worst possible time, but you didn't want that to happen. What happened was that you made a mistake, and Steve, that's what people _do._ Mistakes aren't nice, but they do happen, and -" Clint shrugged awkwardly - "it's honestly just part of life. We didn't follow you because you are Captain America, Mr. Mistake Free. You didn't trick us into following you because we knew, even if you didn't at the time, that this was about Bucky and not the Accord. I chose to join you despite that because you are you, Steve Rogers who always do what he thinks is right, and who would risk everything for a friend. Your call about Tony's parents is off this time, but you did it for the same reason that we follow you, that is, for a friend. You can't admire someone for something and then berate them for the same reason." Clint paused, before amending, "Or rather you can, but I don't want to. Your reasoning is wrong, but we understand it nevertheless. We followed you despite, or even because, of that, because we know that you would willingly risk everything for Bucky, for any one of us, so we willingly risked everything for you as well."

Steve didn't know when the tears started trickling, didn't know he was sobbing until he was shaking so hard that it was like he was transported seventy years back when he was just a skinny kid in Brooklyn with heart problems and a list of illnesses a mile long. He couldn't breath, his chest hurt, he felt so small, so _vulnerable_ , that it ached. He couldn't stop any of them, but Clint wasn't trying to stop them, merely guide Steve to rest against him so he could have an easier time breathing.

"I'm sorry, Clint," Steve choked out, gripping tightly onto Clint's arm. "For ripping you away from your family, for making you choose a side among the Avengers when _we_ were supposed to be a family. I'm so, so sorry."

"Me too, man," Clint said, in parallel to their earlier conversation but no longer flippant for his sake now. "Me too."

Steve didn't know how long he sat there crying, only that Clint sat with him through it all, a steady, unwavering presence that was like a beacon in the midst of night, a boulder in face of the waves. Steve didn't remember the last time he cried like that. It must have been before the Avengers, before the serum and Captain America, back when he was just a kid from Brooklyn.

It made him almost, for a second, wish to revert to that, the kid from Brooklyn that always had to fight for every inch of respect he got, so in turn, he never forgot who and what he was fighting for, for himself and others, for justice, liberty and equality. It was easy to remember back then.

He wondered when he began to forget.

But for the period of time that he cried, he felt small and vulnerable and so much like the kid from Brooklyn that he remembered, and after when his tears began to dwindle down and the world no longer felt like it was about to crash around him, Steve was surprised to realize that he still felt like he remembered.

He still felt like the kid from Brooklyn, and it should have been sad for him to realize that he had forgotten somewhere between then and now, but instead, he was just... relieved. He felt reborn, with the kid from Brooklyn's heart, Steve Roger's mind and Captain America's body and it was the best that he had felt in a long while.

"I owe him a proper apology, don't I, Cint?" Steve asked, pulling away from him. Steve knew he must have looked like a mess after sobbing for what felt like hours, but after looking at Steve for a moment, a small sincere smile bloomed across Clint's face.

Steve didn't remember the last time he saw Clint smile like that, without a wry or bitter edge. It made him look like a different man. Younger. Lighter.

"Yeah, Steve, you do," Clint said, smile still on his face. "But you knew even without asking me, didn't you?"

Clint reach out with a single digit and poked Steve in the heart.

For a moment, Clint overlapped with Erskine. Steve closed his eyes briefly, before opening them again.

"Yeah," Steve said quietly, with the quirk of his lips. "I do now."

Xxx

When Steve received news from a begrudging Rhodey that Tony had awoken, he felt so grateful that he could have burst.

("And how did you _do_ that?!" Sam exclaimed. "Rhodey looked ready to kill you the last time I saw him."

"I asked," Steve replied, conveniently leaving out the multiple phones he sent to Tony's hospital room that was intercepted by Rhodey, the many one-sided three-word calls the man had with him- "Fuck off, Rogers!" Rhodey exclaimed before tossing out the phone, prompting Steve to send another the next day, before Rhodey finally deigned to hear Steve out. Not that Steve didn't deserve it, for hurting Rhodey's best friend and then leaving Tony stranded in Siberia, injured, with a broken Iron Man suit.)

"Rhodey," Steve started, knowing that he was pushing Rhodey's tolerance of him. He was only beginning to have a short conversation with Steve without hanging up on him. Steve didn't want to push, but he equally wanted, _needed_ , to make amends. "I -"

"A week," Rhodey interrupted. Steve's eyebrows furrowed at those words. "Tony is banned from technology for a week, during which we will get him caught up with everything that happened while he was under, since he is going to go crazy playing around and not get any rest otherwise. After a week, I'm going to 'accidentally' leave this phone in his hospital room." Steve's mouth parted in surprise. "Don't fuck up, Captain. I'm trusting you on this."

"I - " Steve snapped his mouth shut, before starting over again. "Thank you, Rhodey. Thank you so much. I know I don't deserve your trust, after I broke it once"

 _\- "Look after Tony for me, would you, Steve?"_

 _"It goes without saying, Rhodey."_

 _"Hey, don't make me sound like a kid who needs looking after. I'm a grown man!" -_

"so thank you. I won't let you down again, not you or Tony."

"That's good to hear," Rhodey said. "For your sake, Tony's and mine, I hope that you would keep that promise. Good luck, Steve Rogers."

The line clicked.

Xxx

A week later found Steve nervously tapping his feet against the ground with a phone pressed to his ear as it rang.

"Why Rhodey has a flip phone, I would never know, when there's so many superior Stark Phone to choose from," came through the phone and Steve choked back a laugh because that was so _Tony._ "He's lowering standards around here with this thing."

He sounded well. Steve was glad.

"Hey, whoever this is, Rhodey is currently gone, so leave a message after -"

"Tony," Steve said, and the other end fell silent. It was alright, because Steve wouldn't give up so easily. He's going to do it right this time. "I'm sorry."

"Steve," Tony said after a while, shakily but audible.

And that was a start.

* * *

 ** _PLEASE READ:_**

I hated Civil War with a passion from the moment I watched it. It was _horrible_ and I hated what the movie did to all my favorite characters. I was on Team Tony, but I liked Steve, liked what he stood for. Civil War made me hate him. For months after watching Civil War, I couldn't stand anything related to it. I wanted to read fix it fics, did read some, but at the same time, Civil War ruined practically everything that _there was nothing left to fix._

Then, nearly a year after Civil War, I read Like Today Never Happened by Nefhiriel. It had nothing to do with Civil War and everything to do with Steve Rogers. Steve is reverted to his pre-serum state, and it reminded me why I liked him, reminded me why I shipped him with Tony. Civil War Steve Roger is a fucking scumbag, but Steve Rogers is just a good man. I wish they wrote him better, because he deserves better. I don't think the Steve Rogers we know and love will ever take the actions that he did in Civil War, but if he ever did, if he ever did make that mistake, I hope he would eventually see that and own up to it.

There was a lot of problems that I had with Civil War, among them, as I pointed out in the fic:

\- Steve not telling Tony about Bucky being the murderer of his parents

\- Steve's shitty apology letter

 _In this fic, I want to give Steve and Clint a probable, in character reason for why they made the choices that they did. They may not be good reasons, but I'm hoping that they are more logical and in-character than what happened in Civil War. With that said, these reasons are still entirely made up by me. They are meant to resolve a specific issue that I had with a part of the movie, and not intended to somehow magically make all the plot holes and bad characterization in Civil War work. That means that some of the reasons I give won't align with what some of the other actions the characters take in the movie itself, and of course it wouldn't align, because the premise the movie was based upon made no sense. This fic is only supposed to address the problems I have listed above, and literally nothing else._

 **That said, this is fic isn't about forgiving Steve's action in Civil War. It's about having Steve own up to his own mistakes, about apologizing, and making amends. It's about rejecting the despicable Steve Rogers that Marvel shoved down our throat in Civil War, and saying, Steve can do better. He _is_ better, and through this fic, I hope I showed that.**


End file.
